


Hostile Weather

by QueenPotatos



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude is King of Pining, Dimiclaude Birthday Week (Fire Emblem), Dimitri is King of Oblivious, Fluff, Frostbite, M/M, day 2 : hot and cold, silly fluff, spoilers from both route especially VW I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/pseuds/QueenPotatos
Summary: Since they became Kings, Dimitri and Claude spend more and more time together, as equals. But can their friendship endure the drastically different kind of weather of their respective homeland as they visit each other over time? Will it end up dividing them, or better, bringing them even closer than what they presently are?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Hostile Weather

**Author's Note:**

> This is nothing but silly and fluff.  
> Also Claude is an idiot when it concerns Dimitri

# Hostile Weather

.

* * *

#### 1 – Hot in Almyra

If he thought Derdriu in summer gave an advance taste of what Hell must feel like, his extended stay in Almyra makes him regret his hasty words, and Dimitri would give anything to come back to this peaceful summer when he was, hot, unmistakably, but at least there could he breathe properly.

He hates this bloody weather, he hates sand and scorpions, he hates Almyra during Blue Sea Moon.

Why did he have to answer Claude's invitation and travel all the way here, just for a birthday party?

“Did we really have a choice? Since you’re the Liberation King and signed peace with Almyra a few weeks after Claude took the throne...” Ashe says.

“Refusing his invitation could have opened old wounds and bring us to the edge of war once more.” Ingrid adds.

Perhaps it would have been better to suffer through another war than to be the victim of such heat, against which he has no weapon to fight against.

The worse is yet to come, of course, as Claude is still fond of banquets and feasts, and nothing is good enough for his 25th birthday. The party lasts a whole week during which they eat, drink and eat again, some of them dance – Ingrid, surprisingly - or sing, and at some point during the second night, Dimitri finds Claude’s arm curled around his neck and a cup of wine in the other as they shout, more than sing, a few songs they learned during a time they fought a war against Edelgard, and none of them were Kings.

The next day Claude knocks on his door with white linen in his arms.

“You were hot last night. Your formal attire is not suited for our weather.”

Dimitri lays in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead and Ashe fanning warm air his way. Claude is polite enough to hide his laugh.

“In any case, I’ll drop this here, use it as you please.”

 _This_ turns out to be the very same clothes Claude wear at night, and when Dimitri points it out, he laughs, saying they are truly seen as equal now, two Kings and friends, ruling for a better world. They both wear white from head to toes, Claude even found a matching ribbon for Dimitri’s long hair, and indeed Dimitri feels more at ease than with his tight and black shirt underneath his white armour. The shirt is actually loose and perhaps too low-necked, and lets appears his torso way more than he feels comfortable with. But it really is hot tonight once more, and Claude doesn’t seem to mind – no one does, in fact, openly stares at his chest but rather at the new attire itself, and all comment on how both Kings share the same.

“So?” Claude brings him a glass of wine. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I should be the one inquiring about your feelings Claude. It’s your birthday after all.”

They haven’t met in a while, and during that time Claude has changed, and so did he. His skin has darkened thanks to the change of weather and omnipresent sun, which makes his eyes even brighter in contrast. He’s still built the same, but his bread has grown a bit, and he let his hair long with a braid on each side of his face. Still as handsome as ever, he caught himself thinking.

The shirt reveals a bit too much indeed, and Dimitri drinks his wine in one go – regrets it immediately – as he tries very hard not to stare at Claude’s chest that is so generously offered to him. He tries so hard he misses how Claude is doing the exact opposite, as his eyes barely look at anything else but Dimitri, and how he sighs each time he is gifted with the sight of a nipple when Dimitri leans on the table to pour them more wine.

They barely spent time apart from each other the last day of Claude’s birthday celebration. When it is time to call it a night, for the sun is almost up and men are drunk on alcohol, meat and tiredness, Claude takes Dimitri by the arm for a last dance. They stumble as they walk back to their respective rooms, their arms around the other’s shoulder for balance.

Claude let’s his hand drop from there and halts on Dimitri’s hip. “I had the most pleasant time. You should come here more often. I miss you.”

“Do you want me dead?”

“Ah, no, of course not my friend.” Claude kisses his cheek, his hand fondling his hip, his breath, heavy with wine, comes to his ear. “Good night Dimitri. I’ll let my door open, if you miss me too.”

Dimitri doesn’t quite understand the meaning behind those words, and he’s too tired to reprimand Claude about this obvious breach in his security. He opens his door, finds the bed with difficulty and falls on the sheets still fully dressed. He closes his eyes and falls asleep on the spot.

* * *

#### 2 – Cold in Faerghus.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea, at first, but after a couple of hours trapped in the snow with Claude freezing to death, literally, sitting next to him, Dimitri would have liked not to have this brilliant idea, of hunting a bear in the middle of the forest in the middle of winter like he used to when he was a child, and he so dearly wished Claude would have disapprove of such a bad idea, he who is usually so keen on surviving.

Dimitri will be fine a couple of hours more, he’ll survive even days in the cold but Claude is another story. There’re already frostbites on his nose and lips and his fingers went from white to purple a couple of minutes ago. His teeth shatter too much to put them in his mouth to keep them warm enough not to fall, so Dimitri had to do it himself. They cannot do more but to wait for Sylvain to return.

“Claude?” his eyes are closed, he must not fall asleep. “Claude, talk to me. Or else, you’ll die.”

Dimitri shakes him. He opens his eyes. “Is Sylvain back?”

“No, but if you want to come back alive, you’ll have to keep your eyes open.”

“I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel my hands. I can’t even feel my lips. That’s it, that’s the end of Claude Von Riegan, that’s the end of King Khalid, killed by his pride and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus’s more than hostile weather.”

“You’re not dead if you can say such foolishness. Sylvain shouldn’t be long, talk to me to keep you awake. Claude!” Dimitri shouts, not too much to cause another avalanche. “Tell me about your Wyvern.”

“She’s beautiful, but sad because she’ll never see me again, because I’m going to die here, in your arms, far from home.”

Dimitri sighs, “Okay, wrong subject. Tell me about a fond memory of yours. What about your childhood? Or the time we spend in the monastery?”

“To think I’ll never see Hilda again. I promise her I’d introduce her to my parents. Another promise I’ll never fulfil, since my life ends here, and you’ll be the very last face I’ll have to chance to see before I cross the other side.”

“Give me your right hand.” Dimitri takes Claude’s wrist, since he’s unable to move at all, and brings his fingers into his mouth. His nails are blue, there’s already chilblains on most of the skin, it’ll be a miracle if he can wield his bow again.

“I can’t feel it. I can’t feel anything.” He sobs. “Tell me I still have it, that my hand hasn’t fallen yet.”

“It’s still here, and with all five fingers.” Dimitri tries to be reassuring, but fails poorly. Claude sobs still, so sure of his demise and he rests his head on Dimitri’s shoulder. “Claude, let’s talk about...anything, really, anything you like, I promise I’ll listen.”

“You.” His voice is muffled against Dimitri’s coat.

“What?”

“You. I like you.”

“Oh.” His ears are still working fine it seems. Why is Sylvain taking so long? “Thank you Claude, you’re a dear friend of mine as well. That’s why you need to stay alive; how am I going to stabilize the whole continent without your help?”

“I think you misunderstood me. I like you. A lot.”

“And me too, my friend. As I said, you’re very-"

“Please. I’m dying. Stop being dumb for a damn second and open your eyes. I don’t like you like friends usually do, Dimitri. Oh, damn, I might as well tell you, you have a right to know.” Claude moves on his side but cannot turn to face Dimitri at all. “Dammit. I can’t even stare at you properly for my last moments.”

“Claude, what on Saint Seiros are you talking about?”

“I like you. Physically and, _romantically_ speaking – oh my, I can’t believe you made me say it.”

Dimitri can’t help but stare, flabbergasted, by such a news. Claude, liking him? As in, _liking_ -

“If we make it alive, please Dimitri, I have a last request.” Claude’s eyes are closing, but Dimitri hears hoofs hitting the snow, Sylvain has come back at last. “The white tunic I gave you in Almyra last year...I want to see you in it again.”

He loses consciousness a shortly after that.

* * *

#### 3 – Warm in Faerghus.

Claude sleeps for an entire day. Dimitri has asked to be warn immediately after he wakes up, even during his own time of rest. By chance, Mercedes was in Fhirdiad that day and she managed to save Claude’s fingers and most of his toes – two on his left foot didn’t make it, but it shouldn’t be a problem for riding his wyvern, at least that’s how Dimitri plans on delivering the news.

He stands in front of his guard robe when the first sign of Claude’s awakening reaches his ears. He takes a deep breath. How is he going to explain his foolish idea costs him two toes? They have been friends for so long, and peace with Almyra is still so fragile – what would his people say about this misadventure? This is a real political nightmare.

And then, in the middle of it all, there’s Claude and his words.

_“I like you.”_

What is he going to do about this?

He’s holding his wrist when Claude opens his eyes fully for the first time that day. Mercedes leaves them as soon as her examination is complete. He still has to break the news.

“How are you feeling?”

“Numb. But alive. A thirsty.”

Dimitri helps him drink some water.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“A little bit less than a day. Twenty hours to be exact.” Dimitri takes a deep breath after he puts the empty glass on the table. “Claude, you made it alive, but unfortunately, we couldn’t save all your toes-“

“Oh no.” Dimitri holds his breath, Claude’s eyes are glued to the ceiling. “You’re wearing the shirt I gave you last year during my birthday party.”

Definitely, Dimitri expected a lot of reactions, but certainly not this one.

“Which means this heart to heart conversation we had in the snow wasn’t me hallucinating so close to my death bed but actually happened. As in, you heard me say those things.” Claude looks to his chest, avoiding his eyes. “Of course you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have worn this shirt in the middle of winter. It still suits you perfectly by the way.”

“Claude.”

“And, I don’t want to take back my words. Dimitri, even if I’m not going to die in an instant – especially because we’re both going to live, and for so long – my feelings are the same, so I’ll say it again. I like you.” Claude risks a glance to Dimitri’s face. “By the way, are you holding my hand or am I imagining things?”

“Not exactly, but I’m holding your wrist. Mercedes said you won’t feel anything in your hands for days, probably.”

“Good, very good. You’re holding my wrist.” Claude stares back at the ceiling again. “By the way, what did you say about my toes?”

Dimitri smiles, he leans closer and drops a kiss on his forehead. “We couldn’t save all of them, unfortunately.”

“Oh, what a shame.” Claude groans, “I think I’ll need another forehead kiss to recover from this terrible news.” Dimitri of course obliges, and sits on the bed to get a better angle. He kisses his forehead again. “Perhaps another one?” Claude demands.

“Claude.”

“Your lips are warm, but you shall be more effective if you kiss a place that also suffered from the cold, and which if kissed, would make me feel as warm as if we were having tea in my room back in Almyra.”

Dimitri silences him with a kiss on the lip. It lasts as long as it takes for Claude to stop groaning under his weight, and he withdraws the moment Claude kisses back.

“Like that, you mean?”

Claude stares at him with wide eyes, as he considers the proper way to reply. “Yeah, kind of. Though I’m not sure yet, we should try it again.” He tries to move his arms, probably to hold Dimitri or pull him in a hug, but the bandages remind him of his condition. Dimitri smiles when he curses.

“Not until you’ve recovered enough to endure my affection.”

“Endure, endure; I endured this stupid bear hunt just to impress you, I think I can have at least one good kiss before you leave me alone, mortified that I couldn’t hold you in such an important moment of my life.”

Dimitri rolls his eyes, but he’s too happy to surrender to Claude’s plead.

“So, you wanted to impress me? After all this time?” Dimitri says, amused.

“Especially because we’ve known each other for so long! I had to find ways for you to see me differently, as in, potentially interested, and interesting. You know, when I entered Garreg Mach I had three goals: bringing peace in Fódlan, becoming King of Almyra, and getting in your bed. I never thought I would make things in that order, to be honest, but I’m glad we’re getting there.”

“Wait.” Dimitri suddenly sits straight. “You’ve liked me since our academy days?”

Claude remains silent, and then closes his eyes, pretending to have fainted.

“It was almost…seven years ago! And you never told me anything!”

“Please,” Claude implores, “I am still recovering. Can we skip the mortifying confession part and go straight to most pleasant activities? I think my lips are getting cold again.”

“No,” Dimitri pinches his nose, forcing Claude to open his eyes, he frowns of course, but he’s so impossible, he deserves this. “As you said, you’re recovering. Pleasant activities will have to wait.”

He groans, “You’re no funny! What are we going to do until I,” Claude stares at his arms, “can finally use them to pin you against a wall or something?”

“I don’t know. We can talk. I mean, didn’t we use to? Talk, only.”

“May I suggest that for our next date we choose a place, how can I say, neutral, especially temperature wise?” Claude says on the spot, too happy to share his thoughts, judging by the smile illuminating his face.

Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “Next date?”

“I was thinking of the Monastery. We could spent some time here, reminiscing our first meetings and fights! And see Teach, too! It’s been so long.”

“Meeting the Professor would indeed be nice, since I haven’t seen them in a long while. I’ve been too busy spending all my free time with a King across the border to pay them my regards.” Dimitri says my malice.

“Perhaps we could ask them to marry us in the Cathedral.” Dimitri almost loses his balance, even if he sits on a bed. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Judging by the absence of reaction – he did stun Dimitri with that last statement – Claude slowly, very slowly, turns his head to him. Panic reads in his eyes. “Oh. Perhaps it’s a bit rushed. I should invite you for tea first, I guess.”

“That would be nice indeed.”

“Let’s forget I said that for now. But, you know, for my defence it has indeed been seven years.”

And Dimitri, defeated by such a painful confession – because he knows Claude, better than anyone else, and he can only imagine how much it cost him, he who concealed his feelings for so long to, to have them unveil by a twist of fate and not by a scheme he had the time to prepare down to the very last detail – cannot do anything but hold him in his arms, strongly, and never let him go.

“You’re an idiot. You’re truly an idiot. Why did you stay silent all this time? We’ve been Kings for a couple of years now.”

“Ah, Dimitri, my dear; I think that better than my words, my two missing toes will be the eternal proof that you make me utterly stupid.”

Dimitri smiles in the crook of his neck. It’s warm here, but he doesn’t hate it, it feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can follow me here for more stories !  
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/doctor_queenie)


End file.
